To Dance With You Again
by Maybe I'm a Kinkajou
Summary: Heath reflects on his time spent with Priscilla. ONESHOT, rated T for mild swearing and subject matter. BRING TISSUES!


Heath/Prissy angst, bring tissues, etc.

Disclaimer: I do not own FE.

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To Dance With You Again

Pictures. Few people save for the wealthiest lords could afford pictures of their loved ones. Knowing that, Heath felt lucky to have one of Priscilla right now. He had spent his entire payment from Lord Eliwood on that one picture, but it was worth the hungry nights he had spent afterwards to at least keep her face from fading from memory. When he looked at it, he sometimes wondered if the man who took her picture had took pity on him, a poor love-struck wyvern knight, and cut the price, but his thoughts mostly were with the beautiful smiling face captured forever.

"_Heath, let me see." Priscilla knocked on his door again, this time with much more force than Heath thought a girl with delicate hands ever could. He flushed red, as he had a habit of doing whenever Priscilla was around._

"_Priscilla, I…I can't. I'm too embarrassed…" He stuttered. In the wake of Nergal's defeat, Lord Eliwood had arranged a celebratory ball for all of the defenders. Heath, for the first time in his life, had to wear something besides his armor and musty old boots. After staring at himself for over an hour in the silly outfit Kent had provided for him, Heath had resigned himself to feigning sickness for the ball. At least, he had until Priscilla came for him. He had nearly forgotten that he had asked to escort her to the ball. The thought of him, barely acceptable by the middle-class dukes standards, escorting the daughter of an Etrurian count to a formal ball made him feel faint._

"_Heeeath, if you don't let me inside, I'm coming in for you!" Priscilla shouted, sounding mildly annoyed._

"_You can't, the door's locked," Heath answered meekly._

"_That still won't stop me." She answered. Heath sighed and grudgingly opened the door a crack, enough for her to see the red gold-edged shirt he was wearing._

"_Look at me," He said unhappily. "I look…I look…"_

"_Very handsome," Priscilla finished for him, taking his hand. "Heath, I would be honored if you would escort me to the dance. I want you to dance with me."_

"_Pruh…Priscilla…you're a…uh…"_

"_Well, if you don't want to take her, I'll be more than happy to," Came a snide, slightly accented voice. Heath looked over Priscilla and glared at Legault._

"_No thanks, Legault," Heath said flatly. "I—we were just going."_

Heath looked at Priscilla's picture again, then closed the locket he kept it in and tucked it back inside his shirt. Ilia was cold, not like the humid marshlands of Bern where he had grown up or the warm, breezy highlands of Lycia. The only was to stay warm here was to bundle in furs, or drink. The latter was cheaper and allowed for more free movement, as well as easing the pain of the hole in heart where Priscilla should've been. Ever since he left her, Heath hadn't bothered to stay too sober for very long stretches of time. The pain showed on his face in the form of eternally bloodshot eyes and a thin face. Or maybe that was just the harsh Ilian weather taking its toll on him; he couldn't tell and he didn't care. He only wished that the aching in his head and in his heart would just go away.

"…_Heath."_

_Heath looked at Priscilla over his glass of wine, and smiled sheepishly at her. He knew exactly what she wanted to do, the thing that he had been dreading ever since he had agreed to take her to the ball. "Yes, Priscilla?" He replied, wanting to delay the moment for a bit longer._

"_Heath…Are you going to ask me to dance?" She asked. "If you don't want to dance with me, just say so."_

"_N-n-no, Priscilla," Heath winced; he hated stuttering in front of her. "I want to dance with you, it just…it just wouldn't be proper, a lady of your status with me. We're breaking so many social taboos by just being together right now, I don't…I don't want to…"_

"_Heath," She said again, taking his hands. "Heath, just this once, will you please pretend that I'm not the daughter of a count, or a noble from Etruria, or anything else that's stopping you from being yourself around me? Pretend for a moment that it's only you, and only me. Please, for me."_

_Heath looked into her eyes, their green depths swallowing him up until he felt as though he were drowning inside of them. "I can do that, Priscilla," He said softly, gingerly putting one of his hands around her slim waist. "You should know, though, that I'm not a good dancer."_

_This time, Priscilla smiled and blushed. "Neither am I, truth be told." Heath laughed and swept her out on the dance floor, just as the musicians started a slow song. Priscilla put her head on his shoulder as they began to dance, prompting Heath to pull her closer as they moved around the floor. Each said nothing for a moment, and merely lost themselves in the feeling. Heath couldn't think about anything in that time, and didn't really want to, either. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against Priscilla's, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume. She was like a rose, a rose that had bloomed for him and only him. She was his, and he was hers, and nothing could come between them. Oh, how he had wanted to deny it before, but right now, he could express his feelings for her without remorse._

"_Priscilla, I love you," He whispered. "I love you more than anything in this world." He felt her lift her head off his shoulder, and he opened his eyes to see her looking directly into his eyes. He knew what she would say before she said it._

"_Heath, I love you, too," She said softly, her voice trembling. "Oh, I love you, too." They both stopped dancing, on the edge of the crowd of dancers, and Heath kissed her. She was right, there was only them in this crazy world, and for a moment, the insanity disappeared, and all the world was right._

"A'right, laddie, you've 'ad enuff. Out yeh go." Heath looked at the innkeeper through bleary eyes, haphazardly shaking his head.

"No," He said thickly. "I haven't. She's still in my head, dammit. I can hear her…dammit, I can't take this anymore!" He buried his face in his hands, biting back the sobs that were making his body shake. He couldn't get drunk enough to submerge her memory anymore; the drunker he was, the clearer her image became, torturing his mind and body until he wailed like a grieving widow.

"Laddie, aye dun care if yeh think yeh've 'and't 'ad enuff, yeh still owe me fer last night an' the night afore. Until yeh can pay, out yeh go."

"NO!" Heath yelled, and nearly fell out of his chair. "I don't want to feel this way anymore! I want to be happy again! I WANT MY PRISCILLA!"

"Oh, a girl, is it?" The innkeeper sat down next to Heath and patted him on the back. "Look, laddie, if she dun want yeh, then there's—"

"SHE DOES WANT ME!" Heath stood abruptly, nearly falling over from being so intoxicated. "SHE LOVES ME! SHE SAID SHE DID! WE COULD'VE BEEN HAPPY!" Heath leaned against a wall, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. "We could've been so happy…If only I had answered yes…"

"Ah, laddie, if she loved yeh, why dinn't yeh marry 'er?"

"She was a princess," Heath said flatly, his eyes glazed over. "She was a princess of Caerlon…and I…I was nothing…"

"Caerlon, yeh say?" The innkeeper shook his head. "I'm sorruh, laddie, but Count Caerlon's daughter married a while ago."

Heath stared at the innkeeper, his eyes wide. "What?"

"Aye, laddie, she did. It was big news here, sorry yeh missed it. Now, out yeh go."

"_Easy, Hyperion," Heath said soothingly to his wyvern, patting him on the head. "I know the load's a little heavy this time, but I don't know if we're gonna find much food between here and Ilia."_

"_So that's where you're going, Heath."_

_Heath spun around at the voice, a rock forming in the pit of his stomach. Even in the dim lantern light of Pherae's royal stables Priscilla still shone through, as if her glow was fueled by her magic instead of Heath imagination._

"_Priscilla, what are you doing up this late?" He asked._

"_I couldn't sleep," She said, walking over to him. "I looked out my window, and I saw you trip over all the bags you were carrying." She scratched Hyperion's head, and the wyvern hummed in appreciation. "Heath, why are you leaving?"_

_Heath sighed, taking Priscilla's hand and kissing it. "Because I can't stay here forever. I have to make money somehow, or I won't be able to feed Hyperion. You know how grouchy he gets when he's not fed."_

_Priscilla turned away from him and continued petting Hyperion. "Take me with you." It wasn't a request, it was an order. Heath bit his lip. "I can't…"_

"_Why not?" She answered sharply._

"_You know why."_

"_But why does it have to be like this?!" Priscilla kicked at the straw strewn floor in frustration. Heath had never seen her so agitated._

"_I…I don't…Priscilla…"_

"_Heath, please," She pleaded, throwing herself on him and hugging him tightly. "I love you…Please don't leave me alone…" Heath put his arms around her and held her close, acutely aware of how her body curved against his, and how her silken nightgown was so loose and could slip off so easily. It took all of his willpower not to make love to her right then and there; he would not dishonor her, even if she wanted it._

"_Priscilla…" Heath said softly, stroking her flaming red hair. "My dear Priscilla, you don't know how badly I want to take you away with me. I'd love nothing more than to marry you and father your children, and grow old and die with you in some little house by the sea; and in the end enter the afterlife together holding each other's hand. But we cannot, Priscilla. I cannot plow a farm and feed you any more than I can fly through the skies like the wyverns. I am a mercenary, and a mercenary's life is not for you, my love. I won't put you through that kind of pain."_

_They both stood there for what seemed like an eternity, until Priscilla's sobs faded into hiccups. "Heath," Priscilla whispered after a moment. "Will you dance with me…one last time…"_

_Heath smiled. "If that is what you wish, then I shall." And they did dance, just like the night at Lord Eliwood's ball. The only sound was Priscilla's gentle humming, and as the lantern died, the only light they needed was from the stars…_

The next thing Heath was aware of was the cold. He didn't know how long he had been lying there after the bouncers had thrown him out. It could've been five minutes, it could've been five hours. It was probably closer to five hours, judging by the heaviness in his limbs. He didn't care, though. His whole reason for living was gone, taken by another man. He shuddered when he thought of another man holding his Priscilla, kissing her, laying her down in bed and…he swallowed hard, trying not to vomit.

Of course, he hadn't expected her to wait for him. He had told her not to wait, to just get on with her life. She must've taken those words to mean that he didn't love her. But…why did he still love her? How could he still feel for a woman that didn't love him? He opened the locket around his neck and gazed at her picture inside, forever looking at him with love in her eyes. He felt so sleepy, looking at her picture.

The cold wasn't so bad right now. It was almost bearable, covering him like a blanket. He could almost sleep out here…in fact, he could sleep. He couldn't feel his limbs well enough to move anyway. And besides, he had his Priscilla. His beautiful dancer. He could almost hear her humming that silly song from Lord Eliwood's ball. How he hated that song. But if Priscilla liked it, then he could bear it.

"_Will you dance with me…one last time…"_

"Of course I will, Priscilla," Heath murmured, closing his eyes. "I'll dance with you forever…"

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Hope you enjoyed the fic! R&R, plz.


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